


he sleeps best

by Areiton



Series: Without Words - Stony Love Confessions [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, M/M, Nightmares, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24245179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: He sleeps, best, when he sleeps near Tony.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Without Words - Stony Love Confessions [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748689
Comments: 8
Kudos: 188





	he sleeps best

**Author's Note:**

> Stony ficlets based on this    
>  [ list ](https://areiton.tumblr.com/post/618328996073062400/50-item-writing-prompts-50-wordless-ways-to-say)

There are nights when he wakes, and he’s alone, the sheets cool to the touch, and he creeps from the big empty bed, follows the lights of JARVIS’s gentle prompting until he’s in the workshop or the living room, or sometimes--rarely, but sometimes--on the balcony. 

He finds Tony, always, because Tony is where he’s safe, where he’s comfortable. Where he can rest. 

Sometimes, Tony smiles at him, kisses him absently and Steve curls on the nearby couch, and watches him with heavy eyes, until he’s falling asleep to the sound of low music and Tony’s quiet voice. 

Sometimes, he wraps around Tony on the couch, on the edge of the balcony, head resting against Tony’s knees while Tony works and he sits at his feet. 

He sleeps, best, when he sleeps near Tony. 

The best part is--he wakes, and it doesn’t matter if he falls asleep wrapped around his favorite person or sprawled on the couch--he wakes curled into a ball, and covered by a familiar smelling blanket, the one that Tony always reaches for to cover him with. He snuggles into it, the soft wool crocheted tight together, faded and soft and stained, and tucked carefully around him, and he can see Tony--across the ‘shop, looming above him, curled against his chest--and he can  _ feel _ how much Tony loves him. 

~*~ 

There are other nights. Nights when he wakes, and he’s shivering, his teeth clattering and Tony curls close to him, his hands hot brands against Steve’s sides, holding him close and still, his voice a soothing rumble until the sound of water rushing in his ear and ice cracking fades. 

Those nights, Tony drags their blankets up and up, until they’re cocooned in the darkness, surrounded by fluff and down and cotton, and the glow of the arc reactor lights Tony’s worried expression and agile hands, and he’s beautiful and close and soothing. 

Sometimes, that’s enough--being smothered in  _ Tony _ , in warmth and touch, and he can sink back into sleep, into dreams untroubled by the cold. 

Sometimes, that’s a spark, and he catches Tony’s lips, licks into his mouth, drowns himself in the sweet heat of him, the burning pleasure of his touch, and with every gasp Tony pours in his mouth, ever brush of his fingers and roll of his hips and keening wail that shatters the silence, he knows he is safe, knows he is  _ loved.  _

~*~ 

These, though. These are the nights he loves most. 

Nights when he wakes, and rolls over and finds a warm body, familiar and beloved, next to him, Tony’s quiet stirring in his sleep drawing Steve up from his own rest. 

He props himself up on one elbow, and stares down at his husband. Tony is beautiful, always, but when he is lit by the glow of the moon and the arc reactor, that reassuring faint blue that means he’s alive and safe, that Steve isn’t  _ alone _ , that he never will be again--then, Tony is breathtaking, lovely and sweet and soft, the way he never lets himself be when he’s awake. 

There’s a bruise on his throat, low and the shape of Steve’s mouth, and he brushes a thumb over it, just to see Tony shiver. 

He smirks, and draws the blankets over Tony, tucking them in close and curling himself tight against his husband’s side. 

He sleeps best, with Tony at his side, nightmares and cold and loneliness held at bay by a warm blanket of love. 


End file.
